Before I Forget
by panicxxheart
Summary: An ending came with the glimpse of an ashen face bordering between fear and confusion. Blonde hair and trailing dark toned furs announced the fast retreat of the man. "Consumed by darkness, the mind finds only what it needs." A muffled, yet familiar voice called through the endless haze. Cullen/F!Inquisitor.
1. Blood in the Breeze

**Before I Forget**

_Disclaimer: I do not claim to own anything you recognize. That is all due respect to the DA: I creative team, BioWare, and EA Games. I'm just playing in their universe, so please don't mind me._

**Panic's Note: **Hello, hello! I would like to welcome you to what I hope will prove to be something quite different in that fantastic kinda way…and definitely not shit, or well hopefully not shit, hehe! I got this crazy plot twist of an idea, while rolling through my first play through of the game. This may be somewhat spoiler heavy and for that you are now, officially, warned. It will involve shifting the plot and improvising as seen fit to support my wild idea. Cullen/F!Inquisitor is the eventual and main stakes pairing. This is starting at the end of the _In Your Heart Shall Burn _quest line. I'd advise you stop reading now if you don't want that arc to be spoiled.

I am utilizing the entire playground that DA: I has given me. Therefore, all characters will be used and this is not merely a group of smutty oneshots for our dearest Cullen. Those will come later. I plan on framing this as a novel, so it may be quite lengthy. Anyways, I think I've given enough note and description to suffice for now.

So for your enjoyment feast your eyes on….

**Chapter 1: **Blood in the Breeze

_A flicker of light and dull tingle, bordering on pain, slowly drew away from the consuming darkness. The groan of a wooden lever moving under the last bit of strength left in strained and tired muscles. An intricately carved sphere pulsing with a red illumination warning of the catastrophic power contained within. The deep undertones of a voice, which commanded both control and direct obedience, called for attention. Skeletal outline and a contorted frame cased in juts of red crystal and black feathers. There were deep growls and taunting movements of a creature far beyond the scope of any known threat. All marked by the gray scaled wings and series of razor sharp teeth towering far above the siege works. A gift blessed in curse flaring as a green flame held within palm's grasp. The blur of a white colossal mass surged down from a distance. Ending came with the glimpse of an ashen face bordering between fear and confusion. Blonde hair and trailing dark toned furs announced the fast retreat of the man. _

"_Consumed by darkness, the mind finds only what it needs." A muffled, yet familiar voice called through the endless haze._

A more defined flicker of light pierced into the darkness as it rendered an intense spreading tingle through the left peripheries of her body. The dried, yet damp, splintered edges of wood scraped against her skin with each stir her body made. A cool heaviness of packed snow blanketed her as the dim tunnel came into focus around her. Deep blue eyes slowly blinked with each layer of consciousness regained. She could hardly attempt to understand the amount of time she'd spent laying on the scorched stone floor as the last touch of darkness finally gave away.

The tingle persisted in her left palm, pulsing up her arm before drifting back down to its base, which dragged her attention to the green glow that seemed to be the cause for all of the nonsense. Her mind and inner commentary jolted to life as she forced herself to flip over her hand, in order to inspect the illuminated demonic rune etched as a scar on her palm.

"_Of course, you're still present_," she scoffed defiantly at the mark, before shifting to clumsily force herself into a sitting position. The dim lit view of the tunnel blurred and splotched with black as she slowly shook her head and absently rubbed her temples. There seemed to be no use in taking inventory of her surroundings or the circumstances that brought her here. Nothing at all seemed sensical in any stretch of the imagination, apart from the obviously bad situation she'd quite literally fallen into. It was even more unfathomable to attempt to sort through the mess of a recollection she seemed to hold in sharp detail, but with little context. Truth be told, she wasn't sure if anyone could make definite sense and sound logic based off her new findings. Dragon and a contorted darkspawn demigod seemed to be the only real conclusion and sure to be ultimate fears that came from all of it.

The sudden and fiercely cold impact of snow hitting her shoulder forced her body to tense. Her gaze shot up to the ice packed tear in the tunnel's ceiling. She vaguely remembered vaulting through the air before the dark reaches of her unconscious took over. Piecing that bit of information with her current surroundings gave way to an actual thought of action to move. A dull ache coursed through her body as she made the effort to stagger to her feet. She stumbled into the jagged wall and muttered a weak curse at it, before taking a step forward and faltering as her knee buckled.

She was locked in a battle against time and unending distance. Each step and twist in the path seemed to reach no closer to an exit. All the while her mind fought to remain both conscious and stable, while still attempting to sort through what all of her findings meant.

"Corypheus," she mumbled aloud with a shake of her head. Whatever he was, she had only doubt concerning any further encounters with him. A part of her was defeated already by him and to imagine facing him again was nothing more than foolish. No matter if she found her allies or not, she was certain Corypheus had won. It was over. Buying time would really be the only thing gained from countering it.

Her mindless steps and dragging depressed thoughts came to an abrupt halt at the sight of another gaping hole in the tunnel and the roaming shades underneath it. Her body moved on instincts as her right hand met the frame of her bow, while the left grabbed the feathered end of an arrow. A slight yelp escaped her lips and stilled her habits as the green blazing flare forced both items to clatter to the ground. Surging energy flowed along the anchor causing it to flare with even more strength. She had no idea what this new symptom meant, but chose to allow the curse to do its work. Her fingers drifted apart and tensed into a lock as she flung her arm up. Something closely resembling a fade rift materialized and was met by a green jet of synchronized energy coming from within her.

"It can't-," she muttered, momentarily forgetting the real threat of the shades now advancing on her. Before she had to time to rear away from the connection and find her weapon, however both of the shades were shrieking and dissolving into the rift she'd created. Her synch flickered out of connection. Her body staggered back and knees buckled as the force that held her up vanished. She winced as her knees skidded onto the rugged granite floor. Both of her eyes clamped shut at the force of impact and the lack of energy she had left. The pull of the welcomed darkness began to close around her once again.

"Maker's breath," a familiar, yet impossibly smooth voice stated just out of her reach. She swayed weakly in her current position as she forced her eyes to open again. She almost hoped for a sick play of the maker's willing at her lack of faith and apparent, untimely, death. However, she couldn't give full credit to this luring thought, because if she was in fact dead she was sure there would be much more desperation, - if not pain - than this. The sudden idea of playing in a death maze came to a crashing stop as her eyes finally found the source of the voice.

"C-Cullen?" She breathed out as her body swayed dangerously. Her head shook warily and eyes clamped shut in an attempt to force herself away from the pulling darkness. His appearance seemed more than enough cause to tie her back in the real world.

"I thought-"he started, coming to a stop before her. "I thought you were dead." He shook his head and tensed as he carefully knelt down beside her. "I saw you, I saw that- that _thing_. It held you, or rather dangled you and the archdemon-"Cullen paused in his confused retelling with a visible wince and clutched his right arm tightly against the space between his chest and bent knee. He sucked in a shallow stabilizing breath and continued "Herald, forgive me, I wanted to. I-I tried, but I couldn't-"

Her mind seemed to slowly take in the sight of the kneeling commander before her. His broad shoulders slumped forward in a pronounced defeat, while his body seemed held up by mere willpower alone. The shiny blonde hair that usually sat perfectly swept back appeared both dull and disorderly flaring out about his head. Thick splotches of blood clumped in flecks throughout it. Light touched brown eyes were downcast and a fine sheen of sweat masked his chiseled face. Jagged cuts and scrapes marred the visible skin leading down into the scuffed and in places severely dented armor. Her eyes came to rest on the safely guarded arm gripped against his chest.

"I-"she drawled out as she continued to take the sight before her in. "I don't know what to say." She admitted feebly with a slight shake of her head. A headache pressed at her skull as she attempted to find something more to offer him. "I'm uncertain what or who or even how it, Corypheus, came to be here. This, this curse-"She paused as she raised her left hand slightly in demonstration. "It was a mistake.'

Blue locked with brown as the pair finally came to rest in each other's gaze. Neither seemed willing to break the drawling silence much less the sudden desperate bond that coursed within it. They'd both encountered and lived through an experience, which should've killed them. It was a sense of camaraderie that she had not expected and she found herself oddly thankful to no longer be alone. She quickly found herself lost in a sudden wave of comfort that came from holding his gaze. The feeling was enough to still her thoughts.

"Yet, here we are." Cullen countered, finally pulling his attention away from her gaze to slowly examine her. The tender moment was lost almost instantly as formalities shifted back into place. She watched as his expression pulled at each pause his calculating eyes made. "By the maker's will, alive" He added in tone that seemed a bit astonished. "I would hardly call that a curse, much less a mistake." Cullen finalized his observations, before painfully forcing himself to stand.

"Cullen, it's not that simple. What happened out there and what I just-"She swayed a bit as she attempted to find her own center of balance in order to stand. "That rift like thing I just summoned." She shook her head, once again sorting through the mess of thoughts swirling within. A part of her feeling just as evil as the thing she'd just encountered. It was very possible she was a threat. "It can't be explained on faith or even be based in it. I am nothing more than an anomaly that should not have occurred. In fact, I think it best you and the inquisition carries on without my help." She impulsively rushed the end as she fell back on her heels.

Her expression fell flat as the weight of her own word finally sunk in. Almost immediately she regretted saying it, but between the haze of her pain and confused thoughts it couldn't be helped. "I-I am sorry, Cullen. I'm not-" She added weakly, lifting her head in search of his eyes.

"I would ask," he finally replied as a tight frown spread across his features. "That you give more thought to leaving the inquisition," he paused seeming to calculate his response before awkwardly adding, "We need you." He refused to meet her eyes as he turned to collect his sword long forgotten on the ground where he'd dropped it upon finding her.

"But I can't- Why are you even here?" She turned her statement quickly into a question as she once again attempted to get to her feet. It hadn't even crossed her mind that Cullen, in all rights, should be with the others and far away from Haven.

"I-"Cullen appeared to be completely caught off guard. His sword was halfway in its scabbard and remained that way while he seemed to desperately search for an acceptable answer. "It's part of my duty to ensure everyone's safety under my command and well I couldn't bar-"He shook his head warily, his voice hitching as he changed his mind on the matter. "And you fall within it, herald. At which point I must insist that we, at least, start moving in the direction of the inquisition, or what remains of it."

She moved her mouth to protest his answer, but snapped it shut upon finding nothing to say. He was right in pulling everything back to getting out of their current situation. She had been too consumed by her own fears, doubts, and spiraling thoughts to consider the trouble they were still largely in. "You really needn't-"She replied in a faltering tone as she once again attempted to get back on her feet. "It may be part of your duties, Cullen, but I don't want you - or anyone for that matter - dead because of me. I've already collected enough lives…for nothing." Her legs wavered under her weight, but were soon offset by the strong grip of Cullen's hand around her upper arm.

"The risk was mine to take." He said quietly, hauling her to her feet then letting his hand loosen its hold but remain firm on her arm as she struggled to find balance.

"I didn't want or asked any of you-"She started, loosely shaking his hand off her arm and raising her gaze to find his already fixed on her.

"You'll never have to." He said simply, with a tired nod, taking the first steps towards a path leading into another tunnel. "We fight and we die at our own will. You are not, and never will be, to blame for the – uh, unfortunate- aspects of war." He kept his gaze trained between her and the path before them as they descended onto the new pathway.

"But what about the soldiers, the Templars, refugees, Cullen if you had died on a fool's erran-" She started, but paused slipping over a rock and bumping unceremoniously into the side of the commander.

"Be careful." He chided softly, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder and releasing a slight wince induced by brushing his right arm. "But what about you? It wasn't a fool's errand, herald. You are the key to us having any chance against this. I would gladly forfeit my life to save countless others – and, well, you." He flashed a quick smile at her and recovered with an awkward, "Obviously. As I said before if I thought I were about to die I at least would like a say in how it happens."

"I, well, I." She released a frustrated sigh and returned the smile. "Thank you." She stated simply as she tried to put everything he'd said into something of a shield against her current doubts and stilled her current line of questioning. She couldn't quite place the jumps and skips and incohesive nature of their conversation, but found herself happy for his support. She had gone from wanting nothing more than to die, to wanting to leave, to somehow finding herself walking alongside her commander and towards what little hope remained. It was severely jarring to realize just how off course she'd gone since the Corypheus encounter.

The biting gust of chilled wind was the first sign that they had found the exit. It was soon followed by the dim light of the brutal storm outside. Cullen came to a stop in the remaining cover and turned to her. She could already feel the slight tremors starting in her gut as she returned a quizzical look towards him.

Cullen reached a conclusion and moved his left hand to unfasten the clips that held his cloak. In an awkward motion, limited mainly by him taking care not to unsettle his right arm, he pulled the cloak from his shoulders and held it out to her. "You may need this."

"Cullen, you're injured." She observed, reaching a hand out to the arm carefully held across his chest. "It'll suit you better to stay warm." She added, pausing her advance at the sudden tension and step back he took. Her brows furrowed over narrowed eyes. "May I?"

"I'm- I'm sorry." His face seemed to pale a bit more at her inquiry. "Forgive me. It's nothing to worry about it." He added, releasing the arm with a contained wince. 'As you can, no doubt attest, it's functional and not profusely bleeding." He swung the arm in a tense semi-circle for demonstration, which only received an even more bewildered look from his counterpart. "But please, herald, take the cloak." He shoved the item in her arms and turned to enter the storm awaiting them. Clearly, he no longer wished to discuss his arm. "Dying due to elemental factors is hardly acceptable given everything." He added in a weak attempt at humor.

She couldn't help but stare questionably at the commander. His sudden change in demeanor made her brain jog to come to something that might constitute a reason for it all. She slowly moved to wrap the warm cloak about her shoulders. Her eyes fell back on the wounded arm. It seemed the commander disliked having her sympathy at least that was the only real excuse she could give him.

"I'd prefer you call me Evelyn. I am no herald." She finally spoke, shifting the cloak a bit further up on her shoulder allowing the thick fur to insulate her neck.

"Evelyn?" Cullen confirmed. "That is a uh, very lovely name. I'll put it to practice. " He added awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and offering her a small smile as he headed into the weather. "Although, I disagree on the principal of use."

"Fair enough," She nodded and ducked her head into the remaining folds of fur before marching into the storm at his rear. Her slender legs and feet easily fit into the spaces his left in the deep snow.

There pace along the mountain's side was slow going at best. It didn't take long for Evelyn to fall in step as close as she could to Cullen hoping beyond hope that his mass might at least block the cutting wind. There was the faintest ping of guilt she felt for taking his cloak given the circumstances, yet she found herself much more grateful for his offer than anything else. Her mind wondered back to Corypheus and then to the wound of Cullen's. It skipped back to her potential exit and exile from life. The amount of responsibility still triggering doubts and the fears of a war she could never possible beat only amplified them. The storm settled into drifts of snow as time passed. Eventually, a tree line could be seen at an angle on the horizon.

"Thank the Maker. Trees. It appears my north was indeed north. The inquisition, or well what's left of it, shouldn't be too far ahead." Cullen announced, with a winded chuckle as he knelt to catch his breath. His eye rose to find Evelyn coming to a stop a few feet from him. "If you don't mind my asking-" he started, shifting his weight down onto knees. "Why were you at the conclave?" His eyes stayed trained on her as he added "I only ask because you seem both unfavorable of the Chantry and the Maker."

"Trust me when I say I did not choose to attend myself." She sighed, with a shake of her head. The unwavering gaze of Cullen's once again sweeping her into an oddly comfortable state. It was so pronounced that it was hard to ignore, but she gave credit to that due to her sheer lack of energy and his given support. It couldn't be anything more.

"The Trevelyan house agreed it best that I add to our representation in the affairs, which may or may not have been recourse for my rather vocal disagreement with our "better" teachings." She took a step back with a wind gust. Cullen's eyes exhibited something along the lines of what she best placed as a pondering look. She found herself enjoying his unwavering attention as the wind continued to stir around them. "Given my skills of expertise. They also felt I could be useful to also prove house power had things gotten…tric-" Her voice caught on the word, while the world seemed to take an alarming lurch back towards the darkness. "Tricky." She corrected, raising a hand to her temple and unintentionally placing the other on Cullen's shoulder.

"Are you-"Cullen started, shifting to get a better view of the swaying archer.

"So that should in short answer the question with some degree of clarity-"She continued in a haze over his attempt at a question. The battle to remain conscious came back into action as she swayed dangerously and took a hasty step back.

"Evelyn?!" Cullen jumped to his feet as he tried to get her attention. No doubt the final stores of energy were long gone from the archer.

She could vaguely hear his voice among the splotches of black that clouded her vision. His image drifted about in a blur before her as she took another stumbling step back. The roaring ring of blissful unconscious echoed in her ears, drowning out all outside noise. Her back fell into a firm arm, which curled into a tight hold. The sharp, yet enticing scents of Cullen lingered faintly when her head came to rest against his broad shoulder. Her eyes gave a long blink before her legs fully gave out. The last blurring image ignited in a red flash of light followed by a surge of power spreading quickly from the anchor to meet with the pressure gripping her back.

_Reviews are greatly appreciated. Hit? Miss? Flame worthy? I'm really hoping against the last two, but you're ultimately the judge. Please let me know what you think. If not I look forward to presenting chapter 2! Thanks for reading :)_


	2. Heart and Soul

**Panic's Note: **Let me start this off with a **gigantic colossal thanks** for all of the support this fiction has gotten over the past day. I honestly wasn't expecting quite that much and am very glad you all seem to enjoy it so far! Here's to hoping that it stays that way. Of course, a **special thank you to those of you that reviewed**. Feedback, in all forms, is always welcomed. It lets me know I'm entertaining more than myself here.

Anyways, think that reaches my gratitude quota for the day ;P. I'll take it back to the reason you all are here. A fair warning for potential spoilers! I'm also going to be introducing a part to my rather large twist. I have altered some aspects and elaborated on others to fit within the range of my idea. So, here goes nothing!

**Chapter 2: Heart and Soul**

Evelyn could only stare in a shocked state of awe at the voices rising to meet that of Mother Giselle. The soft notes and harmonies came together to form an unspoken dedication. A grounded belief in her newfound title seemed to outline each word in song. It was becoming unnervingly clear that each person before her truly thought she was the Herald of Andraste.

She was to be a singular movement. An undeniable force against the coming tides of evil. Granted power that would rise to deny the entrance of demons into this world and bring peace in battle. It was, at the very least, an expectation that she could overcome and find a way to end Corypheus. This belief was hers to spread and preach through direct demonstration.

Everything came down to a green etched demonic anchor possessed in the palm of her hand. It was nothing more than a fluke anomaly. She was nothing more than an unfortunate side effect that came with igniting such chaos. She was no herald. She was no blessing. She could not be the idol and hope these people craved. As the song progressed she found herself feeling suffocated and chained by a dying hope.

Deep blue eyes searched desperately over the mass of faces each lending voice to the demanding song. She couldn't place what she was searching for with each frantic jump her gaze made. It was overwhelming and terrifying to be the subject of this sudden praise laced in desperation. Her arms tightened across her chest and the bristle of thick fur scratched at her neck. The sensation was only a reminder that she equally relied on these people. If it hadn't been for Cullen she would've fallen in those tunnels. Yet, it seemed the people believed she was stronger, if not something more than that. At the moment, that was far too much for her to accept.

"E-excuse me," She mumbled more to herself than anyone as she ducked her head and walked away at the songs end. She needed to escape. The last thing she wanted to do was face the responsibilities that were sure to follow. At that she couldn't even bring herself to face anyone. Waking up to Mother Giselle forcing a truth she could and would not accept had been a bad enough start. What followed had knocked her thoughts into an alarming spiral. The only thing she didn't doubt was that death certainly would have been a more rewarding outcome than this survival.

She couldn't recall in any detail how she came to stand in the gap of trees much less how far she'd walked from the Inquisition's camp. The bow and quiver against her back and the weight of blades against her thighs seemed just as unclear. She wasn't sure on the matters of anything, but quickly welcomed the silence of the woods and the soft whisper of the snow flaked wind. She had subconsciously sought out sanctuary from her mind and following problems.

Slowly, she reached to her blades. The small hilts of the identical daggers melded into her palms with a calming familiarity. She sucked in a deep breath as she attempted to find even a fraction of balance within her being. The soft crunch of snow under her feet announced the first step of her stance training. Her body twisted and flexed with each thrust of her arms, and jutting cuts the daggers made. She knew only the blades and stances of practice as she allowed the task to take control.

There was no spare thought for Corypheus, or the rifts. Herald of Andraste flitted away with the plunging strikes of her dagger. The green curse that forever maimed her hand was nothing more than a sour memory lost behind the switches and intricate shifts of her footing. Responsibility and guilt fell away with each fluid motion her arms made. Time was a forgotten factor as she continued mindlessly in her practice.

Bow and arrow soon took place of the daggers as she followed her routine. Her eyes automatically took mark on a faint chip within a tree at close range. Right hand pulled the drawstring back, while the left moved in unison to line up a shot.

"Stop," a deep voice called as a gauntlet incased hand came to rest and push gently down on her arm. "Please, stop." The hand pushed down harder. Almost instantly the fragile wall she'd built in defense against the overwhelming strains of the world fell away.

"Why should I?!" She found herself snarl as she spun to face her intruder with narrowed eyes and an accusing look. The interruption had made the realities she was bound to face come jarring back to the forefront of her mind making the sight before her not register at first glance. Her hands still clutched to the bow and arrow, while its aim had turned to fall on Cullen.

"I only wish to talk," he cautioned with a bewildered look that flickered with uncertainty as he raised both hands in a clear sign of surrender. He took a slight step back and watched the notched arrow warily as Evelyn continued to seem caught in a bizarre trance.

"I have nothing to say." She finally forced out as reality sunk in, which ended the standoff. Slowly, she lowered her aim. "There is nothing to discuss," she added definitively in a toneless voice with a slight shake of her head. She couldn't bring her gaze to meet his, while everything swirled back into a miserable focus.

"I," Cullen started weakly and cleared his throat as he seemed to find his words again. 'I did not mean to interrupt you, but nightfall is fastly approaching," he observed with a pause. "And I," he awkwardly paused again and the shift of his feet grabbed Evelyn's downcast gaze. "It, the Inquisition I mean, requested you - at least - return to camp. Any discussion can wait until then."

"What for?" Evelyn could feel a newfound rage boiling at the mention of the Inquisition. In that moment she found it to be the nearest cause to all of her problems and the suffocating chain that yanked her back into attention. In a weird sense it was a new threat; an enemy that she wanted desperately to shake away. "How could I possibly be causing any harm by remaining out here?" She demanded, still working to keep her gaze away from his and rising temper in check.

"The circumstances under which you departed have left many on edge." He replied in a calculated firm and commanding tone, however his discomfort was easy to note with each shift in stance he made. "This may come as no surprise to you," he paused with a carefully placed sigh. "And I cannot claim to understand what you must be feeling right now," he added, his tone dropping slightly, "but hope isn't easily found and much harder to maintain." He took a deep breath as he attempted to find the right words. "As much as it pains me to say this, knowing the strain it must have placed upon you, you are the hope they - we - need."

"Pains you?!" Evelyn found herself exclaiming before she could even give pause to think on his request. "You have no right! They have no right!" She added tensely, turning a blazing glare in the direction she thought led back to the Inquisition. She sucked in a shaking breath and shook her head miserably as her anger dissipated into something bordering despair. "I can't be your hope. I can't be your herald. I can't lend advice. I can't give this direction. I can't be the figure of this movement, this belief, and much less this war." Her words flew from her mouth in a rambled representation of her doubt. "I cannot and will not lead something in which I do not believe. You can't ask me to do that!" She finalized with what strength remained in her voice as her eyes shot to meet his.

Cullen's face looked severely pale and expression remained flat as their eyes met. His light touched brown eyes held a certain sorrow she did not expect to find. His mouth twitched slightly as if about to speak, but nothing more came of it. Once again the pair found themselves lost in a gaze and moment, which seemed almost to freeze time. This alone made for a rude call to reality for Evelyn as she felt the tingling prick of tears ebbing on the edge of her eyes. Her emotions all seemed to collide in the simple act of actually facing the commander.

"I would not ask that of you," he spoke in a carefully light tone, almost as if he were preserving the moment too. "But I would ask that you fight." He added with a twitch of conviction lining his pale face. Neither parties seemed willing to break the gaze or wonder in what direction these words could be leading as meaning seemed to drift between professional and personal.

"You may wish to have control over your death and face it eye to eye, but I," She found her voice faltering as she tried desperately to gain control over her emotions. "I am not that strength," she half choked out, looking for a glimmer of calm she had once found within his gaze. "I am nothing more than a soldier with the misfortune of acquiring this nasty scar." Her voice edged on desperation for his understanding as she waved her left hand frantically. "I cannot even save my own life and perhaps I should be dead right now. Perhaps it would have fared better that way"

"That," Cullen muttered, while he shook his head defiantly at her words. "That is the las-" His brows furrowed and eyes seemed to search hers. "I will not entertain that thought. Not for a second." His voice found its force as he took a tentative step towards her. "I suppose you cannot see what the rest of us do. You are far more than you think. Purpose may be yours to find," he paused with an earnest look. "Maker allow it, even if you do not believe," he added softly, the slightest touch of pain drew at his features. "There is still much left here to fight for."

"How can I possibly fight what's already defeated me?" She asked weakly, trying her best to take in his words. Her eyes searched desperately as she once again forced back tears. He did not need to see her cry. "If I cannot save myself, then I cannot save others." She added almost in a whisper.

"Maker help me, Evelyn, I can't see past you." Cullen muttered, in a tone marking internal conflict. She could only stare at him as she attempted to harness what those words implied. It was alarmingly too personal and sincere. The distance between them had closed, yet neither seemed to notice they were within a flick of a wrist of touching. "I will see you through this." He vowed with a great and sudden conviction. "I will."

"Cullen, I-" She started, but was quickly cut off by the quick step back and bowed head of the commander.

"I-I must, I mean to say," his eyes were wide with embarrassment and an underlying regret as it dawned on him just what words had escaped him in his desperation to bring her back. "There are matters I must attend to. Defenses need to be established." He recovered in a hurry, turning on his heels in a direct path back to the camp. He spared her one fleeting glance and shook his head before abruptly leaving.

Evelyn could only watch in a weird state of awe and confusion at the retreating form of Cullen. His combined words and the weight they carried only added to the problem. She wasn't sure what prompted her to begin her own journey back to the camp. A part of her seemed willing to fight with this insight, while a majority wanted to return the bliss of thoughtless weapons practice. Either way, she found herself walking into the outer reaches of the Inquisition's camp just as the last light fell out of the sky.

Countless eyes watched as she drifted aimlessly back into their ranks. The first chill winds rolled across the mountainside in greeting to her late arrival, causing a slight tremor to shake her frame. Unconsciously, she pulled the cloak closer around herself and gave a momentary pause. It had completely slipped her mind that she was still wrapped in Cullen's cloak. She felt an unfamiliar warmth branch throughout her body at the notion, yet refused to acknowledge just what it meant. All she willed to admit was her gratefulness that he had helped her in both strength and resolve, while her thoughts diverted protectively away from the lift in her heart and soul.

"Ah, if it isn't our wayward herald coming back to save the day," Varric's gruff voice praised her return next to a nearby fire pit. Evelyn turned her attention to the dwarf, who seemed nothing short of content with a mug in hand and smug grin stretched across his face. "I do believe, I told ya so, suits this quiet well, pixie." He all but teased with an even smugger grin aimed at Sera. "Pay up!"

"You tart of a bastard!" Sera swore loudly as she flung a small sack of gold squarely at the dwarf's head before moving to leave and nailing Evelyn with a playful glare. "Might ya come back in the morning, no? Seems I've lost my gold."

"I uh," She started slightly taken aback by the enthusiasm and shaking her head at a complete loss for words. She was in no state for games.

"Or, I don't know, you can learn intuition or insight, pixie!" Varric chimed in, tossing the prize gold and catching it with his free hand. "Glad to have ya back, herald." He added with a slight bow of his head towards Evelyn.

"Am I really expected to live amongst such children?" Vivienne quipped with a pointed look as she moved to pick up her few belongings and relocate to a quieter area of the camp. "I did not agree to lend my aid in babysitting."

"While I am all for fun and games, I really do find this in severely poor taste." Dorian added to the noise.

"Well you either find the fun or you find the…death. I prefer the fun, myself. Maybe I oughta teach you a better concept of taste first, sparky." Varric tossed back, earning a scowl from the mage.

"Oh I highly doubt you have anything to offer in taste that I haven't tried before." Dorian retorted with a satisfying smirk plastered to his face.

"Maker be good, you're back!" Cassandra remarked as she waved Evelyn to follow. "There is much we have to discuss and your input may prove quite invaluable. We've agreed to come to terms on matters and attempt to find a diplomatic resolution. The Inquisition must move forward and cannot be stalled by our difference in opinion."

"I'll do what I can." She offered, in part question and part confusion as she left the rest of her companions to their own devices. It hadn't occurred to her the magnitude of turmoil that the rest of the Inquisition was feeling. For a fleeting moment she could almost the see the amount of fear masked in task and, for some, poor humor that resulted from Corypheus's impact.

"There is much. These are what little remains at our disposal." Cassandra nodded, handing off a list of inventories and shifting through more papers that littered the table they had come to a stop by. "Our resources are in terrible standings right now, but Leliana and Josephine have set to sorting that out. In the meantime, Cullen and I are working to support the people that remain within our protection and service." Evelyn could only offer a nod in silent acknowledgement as she tried to a get grip on the demands that were required of their current situation.

"What exactly remains of our power?" Evelyn asked quietly, shifting slowly through the clutter of pages. Her eyes and mind were not able to find any real resting point, but kept moving in order to keep her from falling into another hopeless spiral of thoughts. She knew they'd lost people, good people. The numbers and severity of that loss were bound to be more than she was sure she wanted to know.

"That is a question best addressed by Cullen. He is taking count of our forces and working to setup a perimeter. " Cassandra informed with a gesture in his general direction before continuing. 'He did not make mention of you when her returned. Although, I must assume he said something right. He wouldn't," She paused with a brisk shake of her head. "It is a good thing you're here now. The Inquisition could not afford the hit of losing you." Cassandra gave her a calculating look. "I'll leave you to review what you will then. We plan to reconvene shortly."

Evelyn continued to shuffle mindlessly through each report. Her eyes dully glanced over each page without a single word jumping into focus. She couldn't bring herself to move away from Corypheus and Cullen. Both represented two obstacles she had close to no grip on. One stood as her enemy, while the other came to stand as a shield and sword against her personal demons. She could already feel the slight dependency forming in a loose attachment to Cullen. The more she thought on it the clearer it became that he had been the deciding factor in her return and semi-solid resolve. Her gaze left the pages and roamed over the camp coming to rest on the man in question. All fleeting concerns regarding the Inquisition's position dissolved as she moved away from the table and allowed the papers to fall back into disarray upon it. She wasn't really sure what she was going to address by confronting him, but she found herself walking towards him nonetheless.

"Cullen," she announced her timid arrival as she came to a stop before the man and the maps he was looking down at with a tight expression.

"Is there something you need?" He asked distractedly, giving her a quick glance. The formal tone in which he asked, was not at all missed by her. In a way she was happy to see it back. It represented a return to normal. A state she wasn't sure could exist between them had he held onto his last spoken words. She shrugged off the massive cloak and hung it over her arm. A part of her wanted the full effect of formalities that would return without his constant reminder lying against her back. She needed to shake the impossible feelings and subsequent turmoil within that came from it.

"Here." She stated simply, offering the arm with the cloak out to him.

"Keep it," he replied with a wave of his hand and another quick, yet softer glance. "Shelter is something we're currently lacking greatly. It's the least I can offer." He paused in his examination of the map and released a tired sigh obviously distracted by something more. "I fear I may have spoken out of line earlier. Forgive me." His eyes met her for another brief moment flashing a look that seemed both oddly hopeful and strangely seeking.

"Don't apologize. I think I needed to hear it," She hesitated, not wanting to force any further ambiguity between them. "Or at least something along those lines. It helped me find some sense of grounding." She added in a rush and in her best attempts to extinguish whatever regrets they both held, all while masking the weird state it'd thrown her into. "Thank you."

"Even so I won't allow it to happen again. It, it may be too..." He trailed off with a weak smile and slight shake of his head, before he turned his full attention back on the maps. "I have posted watch at key points of interest and have positioned what remains of the Templars to flank us. Should anything pursue us we will know of it in advance. No more surprises. That much I can promise you, uh us. Until we find a more suited location I advise we all stay on alert." He added offhandedly, turning his attention to an approaching soldier. "If you'll excuse me," he gave her a dismissive nod and moved to follow the soldier.

"A word if you will?" Solas's wise voice and light hand placed on her arm pulled her away from Cullen before she could even give time to think on his abrupt dismissal. "There may be matters I can help with," he offered as her eyes turned to him. The elf gave a slight nod towards the other end of camp.

"What do you know of Corypheus?" She asked, turning her mind back to the reason they were all still united and away from the conflicts that were quickly surrounding Cullen. Her steps evenly matched those of Solas as they slowly made their way through camp.

"It is hard to say exactly what it is. Whether that be a demon or darkspawn or perhaps something much greater, I cannot say with certainty." He gave her an inquiring look as he clasped his hands behind his back. "Although, his control over the dragon or archdemon may lend more support to the later theory. It takes great power to mind that control." The pair came to a stop on the crest of a snow covered hill. The faint outlines of an unlit torch stood between them.

"Any thoughts on how to defeat it?" She asked with sarcastic curiosity as she peered into the snow whirled darkness. The idea of facing Corypheus seemed nothing short of hopelessly fatal.

"Well that would be the ultimate question to which I fear there is no true answer" he added shaking his head and fixing her with another inquiring look. "Although, I am a bit more curious about you at the moment."

"Why me?" She asked, her brows furrowing as she turned her attention back to the mage and away from a hypothetical battle she would no doubt lose.

"Did you find what you needed?" He returned, the tones of his voice almost appearing cryptic. Evelyn wasn't sure what to make of the question, but a nagging burst of the tunnels and waking up within them resurfaced in her mind.

"Before I woke up… That was you?" She murmured in a quiet surprise, trying to piece everything together.

"It may have been. I attempted to project such notions," Solas gave a curt nod as he glanced out into the darkness. "It was perplexing to find a trace of you within the fade. I must admit, I am still unsure exactly what this may mean seeing as you are not a mage." He paused as he seemed to quietly think. "At first I thought you dead, to be completely honest. Yet your trace was, dare I say, light. As if it was but a reflection against the veil. I have not encountered such a presence before."

"Why are you telling me this?" She pressed with a slightly frustrated look, not entirely ready to accept yet another complication to her situation.

"Because I not only felt your presence, but at the same time our commander's presence." His brows creased in further thought as he shook his head. Evelyn gave a quick glance back towards the camp. None of this was making any sense to her or what it meant in any context. "At first I attributed yours to the anchor. Its power and reach are still largely unclear. Factoring in the commander makes things a bit more convoluted."

"How so?" She turned her narrowed eyes in the general area Cullen was likely standing. The slightest etches of worry pulled at her sharp features. Nothing of what Solas was saying seemed to be positive; in fact she was quite certain it had the opposite appeal.

"You and Cullen entered and exited the fade in complete synchronization. This happened not once, but twice."Solas paused and followed her gaze. "I cannot find a significant link that would explain such a connection. Having concern for one does not warrant a presence. The entire company would be reflected if that were the case, which the reflection - in and of itself - is questionable." Evelyn shifted her attention back to Solas. Noting Cullen's concern was a strange observation to make. At that she was still completely in the dark on how both of them managed to get to this camp. "The anchor must be a factor, although I fail to see how it can be applied to Cullen."

"Is there something I should be cautioning or perhaps looking into concerning this?" She asked, her fear not failing to miss a beat within her words. The fade was a territory she had no intentions of visiting, or perhaps revisiting.

"Not at the moment, although under the circumstance and given the rarity of it, I assumed you'd like to be made aware." Solas met her gaze. "The Fade can never fully be understood. It is a great mystery that one can only seek but a small grasp of understanding in. It is locked within personal experience and capacities. The maze I must follow for an answer to this perplexity will require more than investigation and observation alone, but I am willing to attempt to find it should it help."

"I would appreciate that. Is that all you wished to share?" Evelyn asked, raising a hand to massage her temple. She wanted to understand just what implications came from Solas's report, but it was far beyond her knowledge. It hardly helped that she was not aware she had crossed anywhere near the fade and certainly not twice within such a small frame of time. To even attempt to touch on Cullen's relations in all of this would have undoubtedly given her a terrible headache.

"It was in part, although I may have an actual solution to our more pressing concerns." He stated simply as he gave a small wave of his hand igniting a teal tinted light within the torch.

_Reviews are greatly appreciated and cherished to some regards! I hope you enjoyed the ride and I'll see you all in Chapter 3!_

_I took creative liberty in assigning Varric's nicknames. It was far too fun to pass up, I'm sorry!_


	3. Between Life and Death

**Panic's Note:** Alright, so chapter 3! Let me begin with a gracious **thanks** to those who have followed, favorite, and reviewed this fiction. It may sound horribly clichéd and maybe a bit misplaced, but you all have kept the flame alive for this idea of mine. I'm glad to see it through with all of the support. So, truly my writer's heart goes out to all of you.

This chapter has been a bit of a challenge for me and I apologize for the delay in update. It has now been rewritten four times in order to really nail character, tone, and compliance to the series. The plot twist that fueled this fiction is going to be partially introduced here. So, either I'll shoot myself in the foot and ever so slowly bleed out, or I'll keep the interest alive!

**Chapter 3: Between Life and Death**

White streaked about the shadowed mountain scape in a dizzying rush that zigged, zagged, and darted into view. The small flecks of snow moved in an erratic and undefined path. Each tiny piece worked to fuel the approaching storm. Yet, it all started as chilled ice carried on a continuous wind. That chilled ice with its directionless path was a warning and a start. The dizzying blurs of white were the single signal to nature's intent.

Evelyn found herself watching the snow as a parallel to Corypheus. Memories of the conclave with its collection of templars and mages shifted in a haze with each attempt she made at finding a warning sign. At some point she had come to rest on this task. Attempted recall in memory proved a good distraction from the position the Inquisition was in after two days of traveling under her direction.

Platinum blonde hair glinted in the dull night's light as she shook her head slightly. The drift to her poor leadership claimed her thoughts, yet was quickly forced aside with the introduction of the vague politics and societal commentary that surrounded the conclave. It amounted to nothing more than jumbled voices followed by many sheets of parchment that offered little more to her than a slight understanding of the why. Of course, she knew she was really looking for something out of place that could make sense of the violent tear in the veil that produced the rift.

Tired and unfocused eyes pulled away from the weather to fall on her gloved left hand. The result of the mysterious key that was overlooked and should've been stopped had resulted in this demonic anchor, which was largely to blame for her push into leadership. Power alone was the deciding factor of the movement that followed her. The belief that supported it and backed her was even more impossible to bear. She wanted and needed, someone or even something, to blame.

Again, she found herself absently shaking her head in dismissal of the thought. Her body screamed at her to return to the camp; while her mind ran in a blinding circle between memories of the conclave and her fight against leadership. The harsh pings of a headache pierced through the mess as she reached an icy hand to rub at her temples. She knew she needed to rest, but the idea of brushing against the fade prevented that.

Larger flakes of snow accompanied a stronger gust that startled her back to the external world, while she ducked her chin into thick folds of fur. The brittle brush of the fur and faint scent of Cullen drifted into her senses tugging at her exhausted mind. It forced her gaze back to the makeshift camp at her rear.

A part of her jumped at the thought that she could easily blame him for her current troubles. In fact, he was the one that had demanded she fight. If it had been up to her she would have gladly accepted death and maybe would've even sought it out. Yet, he had asked her to fight and unwilling she had listened if not found strength in his words. Her gaze came to rest on the commander with narrowed eyes.

His broad shoulders were hunched and head tilted down at a table, while he paced beside it. Sleep also seemed a loss to the commander. She watched as his shoulders gave a tight jump and pacing faltered before starting up again. At once her eyes softened and she sighed. He wasn't to blame, but was fighting himself. The shift in mind left a perplexed look on her features. It occurred to her suddenly that perhaps she couldn't even be trusted with her own thoughts as she turned her attention back to the darkness.

_Evelyn's body felt oddly weightless within the darkness. Slowly, the weightless feeling was accompanied by slight dips leaving the faint impression of gliding on a weathered wind. Gliding gave way to a gentle pressure against her back and at her knees. Slight warmth seemed to radiate from her side as the pressure branched out along it. A rise and fall joined it and the darkness fell away._

"_It's only me." A familiarly deep voice soothed. She couldn't place if she was awake or asleep. Her mind jumped uselessly from one thought to the next, but remained lost within its own depth. Finally, she came to rest in light touched brown eyes._

A splash of light crossed her closed eyelids, while something tugged roughly at her foot. The archer jolted into a sitting position as she groped blindly about for her dagger. Her eyes scanned quickly around her surroundings in an attempt to figure out just what had caused the rude awakening. Cool steel met her right hand just as her eyes found Sera.

"You're a might bit jumpy one." Sera teased from the gap in leather hides that marked the entrance to the tent. "Seems they're antsy to leave." She added, tossing a look over her shoulder. "Might want ta get movin'." Evelyn stared blankly at the elf that wore a mischievous grin and exited with a short giggle.

She shook her head warily and released the breath she couldn't recall holding. Reverberating pain echoed off the walls of her head announcing the return of her headache from the night before. Her focus came to rest on the thick fur that lay in her lap and stretching fabric that covered her legs. A second jolt tore across her tired body at the sudden realization that she was no longer on the ledge.

The headache intensified at the mere thought of trying to sort through what little would explain her current position. She hadn't even noticed falling asleep upon the ledge much less what brought her to wake up here. A wince graced her features as she shook her head hoping to clear it. Slowly, she replaced the cloak at her back and grabbed her bow, quiver, and daggers.

"The Herald emerged from her tent with strength written fiercely across her face. Not even the ice packed slopes and traitorous ridges could stand in defiance of her. With a single look she rallied the forces-" Varric's rough voice greeted her as she raised a hand to block out the offending sunlight. "Uh, ya'know, I may be over embellishing some here, but you get the general idea." He continued, while she shifted her gaze over the party gathered by a smothered fire pit.

"Do you always make such dreadfully forgiving observations?" Vivienne scoffed at Varric, turning a haughty look on Evelyn. "You have clearly seen better days, my dear"

"Fancy a rougher description, myself." Sera chimed in with a wide grin. "'Course, rough suits most things, especially some things." She added seeming to slip off into a tangent of thought.

"Brave souls," Iron Bull added, leaning carelessly against his ax. "I made a comment on womanly looks once, damn near killed me."

"Tis unfortunate it didn't." Vivienne countered, sending the quirk of a disgusted look in the qunari's direction.

"Heh, unfortunate, maybe. I got a nasty scar to show for it." A ghost of a smirk marked Iron Bull's scarred face. "I'd be more than happy to show you."

"Right, because we all want you to start disclosing the finer details surrounding all of your scars." Dorian interjected with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "The start to a grand day already, I see."

Evelyn watched the banter with limited interest as she tried to shake the pull of her resurfacing thoughts and the doubts that powered them. She was determined to keep her mind in the present long enough to lead the Inquisition through the day. Yet, the notion of leading brought with it the same sinking in willpower and longing to shift blame that had consumed her hours ago.

"If I may have a word?"Solas's voice gained her strained attention as she shifted her gaze to him and the curt nod he gave to the edge of camp. She gave a weak nod in return, moving to follow him. "I trust you slept decently?" He asked lightly, stepping away from the people working to pack away the camp.

"I suppose so, although I do not recall actually sleeping." She offered weakly, quirking a brow at his question. The details surrounding sleep and the expanse of darkness that seemed to cover it jumped to mind, but the welcoming depth in light touched brown eyes quickly took over.

"You did not touch the fade." Solas observed, while Evelyn shook her head to clear the sudden image of Cullen from her mind. "Neither did the commander." Solas added, slightly shaking his head. "I fear I am no closer to understanding the connection or its purpose." The apostate clasped his hands at his back as he came to a stop on the ledge.

"Does this rule sleep out?" Evelyn asked, stopping beside him and closing her eyes tightly in an attempt to shut down her vague memories from the night before.

"If Cullen would sleep than perhaps it could." Solas replied with another shake of his head. "Although, the act of sleeping alone seems an unlikely trigger." He turned his attention to Evelyn before asking, "You are troubled?"

Evelyn bought time with a weak shake of her head as she opened her eyes to let reality back in. The fade was a subject she didn't want to discuss or explore in any depth. It was hard enough to see through her dragging mind without throwing the fade into the mix. "It has been a lot to take in, but I am handling it." She replied, quickly averting her eyes to the distant mountains.

"It is no feat to hide in thought." Solas stated cryptically, not pressing the matter as he continued, "Our destination lays to the east. If we are fortunate we will see sight of it by nightfall."

Evelyn tried her best to see through the clouds that blocked her view to the east. Solas's statement called forth the thoughts she had tried so desperately to push down and ignore in light of the journey ahead. There was no time to pause and dig deeper into them, yet she found one thing pushing wildly to the forefront. "Did I have the right to choose the templars over the mages?" She blurted out before she could think better of it.

"It was a decision made in haste and one that was done, I feel, with little actual thought." Solas replied, following her gaze out into the distance. "Whether it was right or wrong has yet to be seen." He added, giving pause to think. "Although, I can understand the lure of restoring even the slightest semblance of order. It is familiar and perhaps safe."

"What if I have, single handedly, condemned mages?" She echoed her doubt hollowly; letting one question pass seemed to break the silence that had tormented her mind. If Solas would listen then she wanted nothing more than to tell.

"As an apostate I can only attest to mages existing outside of oppression. One act cannot condemn-" Solas began, but was quickly cut off by Evelyn.

"But did I have the right to choose it?" She shook her head, tearing her gaze away from the horizon and turning it on Solas. "No single person should be given such power much less that person being me."

"Yet sometimes it takes a single person to make the decisions others could not." Solas gave her a short nod as he met her piercing eyes.

"I did not ask to be that single person." She spat back, fiercely trying to make at least one person truly understand her doubts.

"One rarely asks for what they are dealt." Solas stated evenly, turning his gaze back to the deconstructed camp. "You may doubt your abilities in choice, but you still stand where as others would have fallen." He turned his attention back to her. "Time unfolds the mind. The advisers will require a direction, to the east." He offered in dismissal before moving to rejoin the Inquisition.

Evelyn stared in a state of partial confusion at Solas's retreating form. The conversation had given her the chance to say so much, yet she had only admitted so little. Her mind tried to absorb his words and find something worth clinging to as she forced herself to approach the advisers at the head of the Inquisition.

"I do hope you have more than a line of scribble to share with us." Josephine stated with a note of annoyance in her voice as Evelyn came within hearing range of the advisers.

"It is not scribble," Leliana retorted, holding a piece of parchment in her hand. "All messages I've received from my men have proven more the useful. We would be wise to heed its warning."

"Scribble or no, if it is relevant then please do share it." Cassandra snapped impatiently with crossed arms.

It was easy to see the anxiety that hovered between the three as Evelyn came to a stop among them. Her eyes traveled over Cassandra, Leliana, and Josephine before coming to rest on Cullen. A crease of concern formed on her features as she noted the sudden spasm that rattled his shoulder and a tension that followed it. This seemed worse the slight jump she'd noticed the night before.

"Nothing suggests that we are moving in a direction or path that offers substantial shelter." Leliana's voice interrupted Evelyn's focus on Cullen. "Perhaps we should cross back into Ferelden." She offered with a shake of her head.

"Our supplies are far too low to support that." Cassandra sighed, turning her attention on Evelyn. "I do hope you have a better course for direction, herald. We have very little left to waste."

"East." Evelyn offered with a gesture towards the ledge and clouded mountain range beyond it. "We travel towards the east. Nightfall should deliver us some hope." She reiterated, forcing out the amount of confidence that would back her assertions.

"Calling to the aide of nobles would offer more than this blind trek into these mountains." Josephine countered, a sliver of resentment lining her tone. "We may all very well die in this unmakerly snow."

"No one is dying," Evelyn all but blurted out with a sharp glare at Josephine. The last thing she wanted to entertain was leading more people to their deaths.

"We travel towards the east." Cullen finally spoke, his tone lacking its usual depth. Evelyn turned her eyes back on the tensed, yet carefully composed commander as he lifted his gaze to exchange looks with all of them. "If we want the herald to lead, then we must allow her to do just that." Gray circles outlined his tired eyes as they finally came to rest on her. "We keep moving."

For the first time Evelyn found herself staring back into hollow eyes. The usual comfort that followed his returned gaze was missing. It had once been an exchange that pushed her to fight and worked as an unspoken support. She found herself longing for the strength now gone from it. Discomfort seemed to sharpen at the edge of his eyes as the crease momentarily deepened on his forehead. Without another word he turned his attention back to the soldiers.

"I want to trust in your leadership, herald." Cassandra admitted, pulling Evelyn's focus back to the other advisers. "We'll revisit this come nightfall." She added with a gesture towards the remainder of the Inquisition.

Hours stretched by under the taxing path east. Steep slopes and sleek ice caused a pause in their travels more than once. All thoughts that had tried to reinvade her mind were soon forgotten as Evelyn did her best to lead through the mountain's terrain. Strained muscles dragged her over another slope leading down towards a line of trees. Packed snow reached up to the middle of her shins as she came to a stop and turned her gaze back to the Inquisition. The company stretched below her in a staggered collection of survivors, soldiers, and wary transport.

Her attention shifted back to the hazy outlined mountain range ahead. The broad light marked midday and still nothing showed against it. She shook her head before forcing herself to keep moving. Walking ahead of the Inquisition seemed both an act and weak demonstration of her ability to lead. Numb feet sunk into the snow as she began to descend the slope.

"Ah, yes, I remember now, _this_ is why I dislike snow…and mountains for that matter." Dorian announced in feigned excitement from a slight distance.

"Watch your step," Evelyn cautioned with a quick glance over her shoulder to the companions that had gained ground on her.

"Varric, one. Mountain range, zero." The dwarf cheered as he managed to stumble out of falling. "Seems my ancestry does help me out after all."

Evelyn turned her attention back to the harsh white ground and the jutting rocks that hid from view beneath it. The idea of joining into a conversation seemed nothing short of exhausting. At that, she doubted she could even maintain one in her current state. It was proving challenging enough managing the simple task of walking. However, her wary attention was soon captured by the sight of a wide brimmed hat flared awkwardly above a slender frame.

"Red. Blood red. That digs and sinks." Cole muttered, with his body facing towards the trees. Her pulse jumped as she heard his words. "It burns and scorches. Driving down into flesh." He continued in a toneless voice. "Red that twists and taints. Unholy and unconstrained."

"Cole?" Evelyn breathed out, taking a few cautious steps closer to view the expressionless profile of the eerie boy.

"Ruin. It is all in ruin." His pale blue eyes stared blankly into the trees. "Red that rips and seeps. Destructive and deadly." She could faintly hear her pulse skyrocket within her ears. His words seemed to bring life to a vivid description of something painfully real. "He wants to die, yet he calls to you." The statement sent a chill down her spine as Cole turned his lifeless eyes on her. "I do not understand," he concluded with a tilt of his head that went unnoticed by the archer.

Feet slammed into the ground, while worn muscles screamed in protest. Her pulse soared even higher as she hurtled into the tree line. Thick snow dusted trunks were dodged and roughly brushed in her wake. She didn't know what she was running towards, but something in her gut pushed her forward. Cole's last statement looped in a sickening echo through her mind.

Evelyn threw herself through a tangle of brittle branches and came to a stumbled stop. Her eyes locked on the form of a kneeling man. His pauldrons and blonde hair glinted against the splotches of light falling through the trees. Broad shoulders held rigid leading into a stiff back. The posture he was holding was a direct demonstration of Templar training. She felt her bow and arrow bounce mindlessly off her leg at the realization of the man before her, Cullen

The slight hiss and faint swish of cloth dragging over snow pulled her attention to a shade. Its claws rattled uselessly against the man's armor as it warily tried to attack him. Branching and jagged cracks of red traveled between them. Her eyes shifted to the sword buried within the snow. A glistening stream of what she could only assume was blood coated the pummel and trailed along the center of the blade.

Red started to fall into the cracked shadows as the commander faltered. His tense form sagged before pulling back up. Another flicker traveled along the jagged path, while he fought to keep control. A louder hiss from the shade accompanied the forceful clink of claws biting down on metal.

Quickly, Evelyn retrained her bow and arrow before sinking an arrow into the shade. A wail echoed from its dark depths and it swiveled to pursue her. Two more arrows zipped through the chilled air and sunk into the target. She narrowed her eyes at the creature and lined up a final shot that sent the shade into a heap on the forest's floor.

Deep blue eyes drifted back to Cullen. His sword had fallen to rest in the cracked snow before him, while he sat staring blankly in its wake. His right hand shone with the smeared red of his blood as it gripped into his thigh. She stared at him blankly, while her mind tried to figure out exactly what she'd just witnessed. The observations of Solas, mutterings of Cole, sudden changes in behavior as well as appearance, and red energy exuded from Cullen offered nothing more than an endless line of questions.

"C-cullen?" She breathed out, realizing that he either had not noticed her or was choosing to ignore her presence. Soft crunches of snow created the only noise around them as she took a few timid steps towards him.

"You're not supposed to be here." He answered in a strained tone, while his face gave a visible wince at having to speak. A gripping worry started to pull at her features as a rush of cold coursed through her veins.

"What," She began in confusion. "How did you?" She tried weakly, her attention flitting to the shadowed cracks outlining his fallen sword. "Are there others?" She asked, turning her gaze to the surrounding trees almost willing the reason for all of this to charge out from its depth.

"I want you," Cullen began with another wince. "Here. But I cannot. You," He paused again as he sucked in a shallow breath. Tension was etched into his chiseled features. "You shouldn't be here." He reiterated with a slight shake of his head.

"What do you mean?" She asked in utter confusion. Her eyes roamed desperately over the fallen commander trying to find the source for his jarring behavior and stance. She could not will herself to accept that Cullen was breaking down. The blood soaked hand caught her lingering attention as she vaguely recalled his caution with it in the tunnels.

"I cannot protect you," He stated, a slight edge to his eyes joined the crease at his forehead. "Or the Inquisition." He seemed to correct himself, given a tiny jump in tone that rewarded him another harsh wince. "It is not," He paused, searching for the right words. "I am not safe."

"Cullen you're not," Evelyn shook her head, taking another step towards him. The closer she got the easier it was to see the tension that still coursed through him even in his slumped position. "This doesn't," She tried hopelessly to find the right words to express her concern. Once again she tried to place the bleeding hand into the puzzle, yet nothing she imagined came to this. "Help me understand. " She added, her tone edged with desperation as she tried to force away the sudden thought of losing him.

The feel of something other than snow beneath her foot and the soft crunch that followed it forced Evelyn into an unsettling silence as her focus fell to the ground. Shards of a broken clay container stood out against the snow, yet the off-blue compound that shone within the pieces gained her full attention. Her breath caught as she stooped to examine it.

"Is this lyrium?" She asked quietly, absently rubbing the compound between her gloved fingers. The vague purpose and known importance it held to templars worked its way into the growing puzzle as she turned worried eyes on Cullen. "What are you doing?"

"I could not reasonably command if everything came back to lyrium." He replied in a detached tone, his eyes still stared blankly ahead. "I relied on it and the Inquisition required my complete focus." He gave a slight shake of his head in an effort to gain clarity. "I was, and still am, no longer a Templar. The practices of such didn't need to follow me." He added as an afterthought. "But I," His tone dropped warily. "I failed."

"Did you intend to die out here?" Evelyn blurted out with the sudden connection of the lyrium container, attacking shade, and Cole's haunting words. It seemed to paint a realistic image of a consuming withdrawal in her mind.

"I-I thought I could overcome this," He stammered in response to her forward question. "If I could just hold onto something, anything," He paused dragging in another shallow breath in an attempt to find words. "You," he muttered in a weak confession with a small pause. "I just," He started, a new tension lining his strained tone. "I needed focus," He admitted as his head bowed to his chest. "Perhaps it was wrong of me and for that I am sorry." His features pulled with another wince, while he seemed to fall further away from the man Evelyn had come to trust in.

"Cullen, you're not." She tried; a frustration locked in desperation highlighted her sigh.

"If this is what I think," He continued, not seeming to take note of her plea. The lines on his face deepened as his eyes closed. "I have seen it, felt it, before." He added, with tired shake of his head. "You cannot afford to trust me anymore, which is why you should not be here."

Blood shot light touched brown eyes finally shifted to meet deep blue. Flickers of sorrow and pain combined with confusion and terror seemed to drift across his wary gaze. Evelyn held it with a mixture of misery and confusion. The slight change she'd noticed earlier didn't mark an end like this.

"I refuse to accept that," She stated simply. Her eyes narrowed at his slight display of something bordering on fear. "Whatever it is you think you know-"

"Please, Evelyn!" he interrupted, the edges of his biting command forced into his strained tone. "Just, just go back to the Inquisition," He ordered his tone dropping with each word. "Tell Cassandra I have-"

"Do you remember when you asked me to fight?" She asked over his instruction in an attempt to pull him away from whatever end he was seeking. "To see this through?" She continued, a power igniting within her voice. "This," She stated with an exaggerated gesture towards him. "This is not you." She bit out fiercely.

"I have tried to," he countered as what little color remained in his face drained with her words. "I wanted to fight and I have been." He paused, wincing against an unseen pain. "But this is," his right hand trembled as he gripped it tighter to his leg. A tinge of red dusted around it faintly. "I was selfish, dangerously selfish" he breathed out. "I am not strong enough."

"Cullen, what are you even saying?" Evelyn asked frantically, overlooking the hand. "This," She threw a wild gesture about them and sighed. "This does not make any sense." Even if he was going through withdrawal it shouldn't cross into this lethal territory. The emotionless words of Cole seemed to run on repeat in her mind as it collided with the new facts. None of it was adding up. "If you want me to continue fighting then you must too." She added in a bribe, hoping it would bring some sense back to Cullen.

"Forgive me," He muttered, staggering to his feet suddenly. A saturated patch of blood stained his pants where his right hand had been. "I am not thinking-"He stammered, taking an unsteady step away from her. "I just-"He shook his head as a frantic look broke across his features. "I need a moment," he breathed out, giving Evelyn something of a desperate yet cautioning look.

"Cullen," She called, hurrying to follow him. "Don't walk aw-"

Her words caught in her throat as she grabbed his bloody hand to still his movements. A sudden surge of power flowed from her demonic anchor at the contact, while Cullen released a sharp hiss of pain. Deep blue eyes widened at the faint tint of red that flickered around his hand.

"Please. Maker, please forgive me." Cullen forced through clenched teeth as his knees buckled in response to the pain.

His legs skidded into the snow exposing the palm and source of his pain as well as jumbled words. Evelyn held a loose grip on it as her eyes stared down in horror. A cruel sharp edged pattern dug into the skin almost mimicking a twisted scar. Yet, the lighter strings of his tendons and deep grains of flesh oozing bright red blood brought life to the crude embedded symbol. She could feel the burn of bile at the back of her throat as she dropped her hold. Her eyes flitted to the green emblazed demonic anchor which bore a similar symbol before her eyes fell back on Cullen.

"No," She muttered in a miserable understanding.

_**Reviews** would be lovely and wonderful with a nice dose of highly appreciated at this point._

_See you all in Chapter 4! :)_


	4. What's Left

**Panic's Note: **Color me discouraged. Is it wrong for me to have hoped for a stronger response to the introduction of my pivotal plot twist? I'm starting to think I may have actually shot myself in the foot. I do, of course, thank those of you who follow, favorite, and review. Much love! :D

Alright, so apart from my whining plea for reviews, truth be told they feed me (/shot), let's get back to the matter of story telling and character depth. This chapter is centered in some deep elements. It was amazingly fun and pretty emotional to write. A note to spoilers concerning _Champions of the Just. _Now_ s_hall we continue?

**Chapter 4: What's Left**

Deep blue eyes were held captive by the steady trickle and fall of blood. Evelyn couldn't recall how many times she'd muttered 'no' much less how much time had elapsed since falling silent. Blood represented the sight that had led her into silence. She didn't want to understand it, yet the press of bile toying at her gag flex seemed to suggest otherwise.

Deep red fell in the wake of ripped flesh, stretched tendons, and torn muscles. A softer glow radiated in a mock pulse about the hand. It was a reminder that she hadn't imagined the embedded symbol that bore a resemblance to her own. She wanted to pull her eyes away from it, yet she couldn't. The haunting pulsating red that had wisped about Corypheus's intricate orb burned behind her eyes. If she had felt responsible for the downfalls of the Inquisition it held little weight when placed next to this.

"I," Evelyn started in a hoarse voice. The tickle and acidic taste of bile fought against her words. "I can fix this," she choked, watching another few drops plummet from his hand.

Everything that defined Cullen's condition seared into her mind alongside the orb. The way he had worked to guard and shield his arm within the tunnels joined with the sudden surge of power that accompanied his touch. His hesitation in talking and detachment from the Inquisition fueled his endless attention to the maps. Solas's observations met with the darkness that always came to focus on Cullen. The connections all traced back to Corypheus and the orb it possessed.

"You and I," Cullen struggled to find his voice, while he held his position on his unmaimed hand braced into the ground at his side. "Both know that is nothing more than wishful thinking." His words came out with more coherence. The passage of time seemed to have calmed the turmoil that had clouded his speech earlier.

"Cullen," Evelyn sighed, trying to convey a tone that challenged his defeating words. Yet, she knew that he had every right to be defeated. She watched as more blood escaped the fingertips that hid his scar. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked quietly, shifting the subject away from her impulsive claims to fix it. Although, her mind continued to sort through and work with it. She had to believe that she could somehow remove his bleeding scar.

"I have read the reports," Cullen began with a pause and shallow cough. "From Theirnfal Redoubt." He sucked in a shaky breath almost willing himself to remain strong in order to deliver his words clearly. "The red templars, the abominations, they all exhibited torn flesh marred by their own blood." A faint tremor shook his broad shoulders announcing the pain still coursing through his body. He weakly flexed the fingers on his bleeding hand. "This is of that nature," he ended, his voice barely above a whisper.

Another cold flush rushed through her veins at his words that supported his defeat. She didn't want to acknowledge the twisted resemblance it also held with the red lyrium tainted templars. Yet, the red cracked flesh that encased those still recognizable as human mirrored the inflamed edges of flesh on Cullen's hand. That paired with Corypheus caused bile to blaze painfully at the back of her tongue. She couldn't allow herself to accept the possibility of the relation.

"You cannot be certain," She denied, with a shake of her head as she pulled her eyes to the ground where a small crater of snow melted by blood caught another drop. "There," She muttered, taking a small step back. "There wasn't red lyrium." She asserted, while moving to warily pace. The sudden differences between the two flew from her mouth in a weak attempt to dismiss his parallels.

"Yet it runs off blood," Cullen observed, his tone adopting distance as he shifted in the snow. Her gaze shot back to him at the sound. "Nothing of any greater good has ever come from that." He breathed out, while struggling to stand up.

Evelyn opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She wasn't sure what to say to detract from that awful truth. At that, she wasn't sure there was anything to say that could overpower it. His words spoke of a demented magic. She couldn't deny the blood that accompanied whatever power his scar held. The image of his blade shining with, and flaring power through, his blood flashed into her mind as she turned her attention away from him and continued to pace. Cracks began to spread in her weak theory to fix it.

"It isn't that simple."She offered, shaking her head and tossing him a quick glance. Her steps slowed as she watched him stagger towards his sword. A part of her sparked with the sudden hope that he was moving to resume his duty. She would be more than willing to look past this and even let it rest. It would be fixed with time. It had to be and until then they would fight through these episodes.

"But it is also too great of a liability," Cullen replied, his voice hitching as he bent to pickup the sword. "One that the Inquisition cannot afford." He added, taking a deep breath.

"Cullen-" She started in a plea that clung to her spark of hope. The idea of having to beg for his understanding and attention brought her words to a standstill. She found herself questioning just what it was she was pushing him and ultimately hoping for.

Corypheus had to be the source for his scar just as it was for hers. Again, her mind routed back on anything that could reverse it. The weight of guilt she felt for his pain and troubles was starting to suffocate her. A part of her wanted to find something to offer as a solution and push that would drive him forward. He had seen her through her doubts that pulled at her ability to fight and she wanted to find a way to do the same for him. She needed to. Her mind ran in a sickening fury to find an offer in support of this as her eyes stared absently at the ground.

"What are you doing?" She asked with a startled jump as the blood caked blade glinted in the light and entered her field of vision. All of her attempts at some weak form of support ended in an instant. Deep blue melded with light touched brown. An unspoken fear and understanding drifted between them. His blade was raised in an honorable offering and forced her breath to catch.

"I have failed more than my command."Cullen began weakly, his eyes showed a glimmer of guilt as the man forced himself to remain still in his kneel. "Through my actions I have risked the people's well-being, broken my vows to the Inquisition, and hidden something deadly." The sword shook slightly drawing her attention to the bright red of fresh blood lining its edge within his right hand and blocking the source of his painful speech. "I am a coward and a threat." His eyes narrowed in reflection of disapproval in himself, while the rest of his features trained into an expression void of emotion. "Do what you must." He forced out, maintaining his composure and bowing his head.

Evelyn found herself fighting for air as she shook her head miserably at Cullen. Every ounce of hope drained from her with his offering and self-incriminating speech. He was pushing his life into her hands, which was more than she wanted to have a choice in. The struggled choices of her poor leadership and judgement weighed even harder on her guilt. It was yet another factor that could have produced this.

"I may be of noble blood." She started, all traces of emotion ebbed from her voice. The Trevelyan ruling on dishonest knights flooded wickedly into her thoughts. "But am not of noble mind. Do not ask this of me." Her voice trailed off as she watched him with a tight frown.

"I can hear them, Evelyn." Cullen muttered; the resolve he'd found to offer his sword against himself was gone. "The demons," he corrected, the sword's hilt rattled against his gauntlets as a severe tremble tore along his strained arms. "They," his voice hitched with a pause as he allowed the sword to fall uselessly back to the ground and take his remaining strength with it. "They call out."

"Cullen," She cautioned almost in an effort to make him stop talking. The idea of his scar and its power was too much for her to take in. It was her fault he had to bear it. She knew of the pain that came from the demonic anchor and it was one she would not have wished on any other individual much less him.

"I wanted it to kill me," he continued with a desperate half-glance back at the shade's remains in a heap on the glistening ground. "The lyrium was supposed to ease the pain." He confessed, his voice falling back into the quiet depths of misery. "But it helped me. I did not want to fight, but it." He paused with a weak shake of his head. "Blocked it, or confused it." He sucked in a deep breath to steady himself. "But the shade, that demon, it understood me."

The horrifying truth in his confession rammed into Evelyn full force as she took an unsteady step back. Her brain reached desperately to find words, actions, or simply anything to offer him. Yet, this added testament in the wake of his offered blade scared her. She could see the fear that gripped at him within the weak tremble that gently rattled his frame.

There was no comfort to ease it. Even in his weak state he had seen and judged what she couldn't. He was right and she was wrong to have refused the offer. Everything he said echoed of something dangerous, but the idea of ending him still couldn't form in her mind. She could hardly bring herself to accept that he had tried to die in order to eliminate his risk on the Inquisition.

"I cannot go back to that place." Cullen added, his tone seeming to beg for a relief she couldn't offer. Desperation lined his face and pulled at his eyes as he sought out her gaze.

"No," she muttered again in refusal of something she wasn't fully sure of. The place he seemed so terrified of eluded her, but she didn't dare to question it. Her gaze met his and just as quickly dropped. The impact of his desperation forced even more guilt and hopelessness on her.

"If I am possessed." Cullen drawled, with a shake of his head.

"Would I still be standing here, unarmed, if so?" Evelyn shot back warily, doing her best to mask her doubt surrounding the possibility. Demon possession was a subject she knew scarcely anything about. The Envy demon that had invaded her mind and crippled her body was her only point of reference.

"But I have felt this in the circle," Cullen let his own words fall away as his gaze fell to the ground and head bowed again.

"If I am anything of a target I doubt a demon would pass me by as vulnerable as I currently stand." Evelyn reiterated, trying to pack confidence and reasoning into her words. Although, she felt she was grabbing uselessly at straws.

A haunting image of metal biting into the pale expanse of skin under the faint dust of beard that lined his sharp jawline slammed into her mind. The impact caused a burn at the edge of her eyes as she recalled Envy's nastiest trick against her. Her attention fell to the blade in the snow between them. It worked as a physical divide and reminder of what was at stake. She felt herself impulsively fighting to support him despite the deadly possibilities surrounding him.

"I was a templar," Cullen pressed, his shoulders slumped under the uncontrolled trembling that displayed his complete defeat and pain. "Everything I learned was to stop this." He continued, remaining steady despite the gravity of his words.

"We do not understand what any of this truly is," She offered with a gesture of her cursed hand. "I am as much of a liability as you are." She stated, forcing strength into her words as her eyes searched over his withdrawn posture.

"How can you," Cullen paused, finding something of more value to say. "Even so, how can this be the Maker's plan?" He asked in a tone that betrayed the full depth of his desperation. "I have always followed your words," he muttered to himself as a more defined tremor shook his worn body. "Never have I strayed, never have I questioned."

The burn of tears pressing at her eyes grew as she watched Cullen hopelessly. She had not realized just how deeply his troubles went. He had faced ending an addiction to lyrium, handled the responsibility of securing The Inquisition, and managed to work despite the scar painfully biting into his hand. Yet, he hadn't allowed any of it to break into the power of his belief until now. She found a sad understanding in why his strength was gone. He had managed to hold on despite facing something she feared she couldn't. It was happenstance that had brought her out here, while he had gone out of his way to offer her strength even when his own had been failing him. She had been the pinnacle of selfish. Not once had she noticed Cullen's masked pain.

"How am I to believe with _this_?" Red rimmed eyes, fighting for slight composure rose to meet hers as he weakly jostled his right arm.

"I-I do not know." Evelyn replied quietly, her voice failing her as she took in his sorrow and misery. It left her with only hollow words in return.

She noticed the slightest fracture of expression on his face before it bowed tightly into his chest. Her mind searched for something more to say, but fell short. She could feel the drag of emotions draining her as she watched the pain induced trembles that rattled his broad body shift into something stronger with an intensity that clinked in unison with his moving armor.

No other sounds escaped the broken commander as his body announced the silent despair of his mind. She could not see the tears, but knew them to be there. He had reached his final breaking point. Her body seemed to work on its own accord as she took a step towards him. Slowly, she reached her hand out and ran it gently through his soft blonde hair.

Cullen didn't make any indication that he was aware of her action as he remained still at her touch. The contact, however created a sudden rush of emotions that blurred tears into her vision. His lack of a response gave Evelyn the impression that Cullen had finally buckled under the pressure of his troubles. Tears escaped the corner of her eyes as her hand tighten within the thick fine strands of his hair.

A sudden and crashing thought of actually losing him shattered whatever strength she thought she had come to possess. The thought left her hollow and without meaning. It was sudden and far too gripping to handle as she stumbled on the sad realization that he had been her strength. Through him she had fought against her internal doubts. He had been the one constant thing within the mess that had clouded her mind and judgement. She felt the cool press of snow along her shins and knees as she fell down into it, while her hand dragged along the side of his face and came to rest on his shoulder. It was hard to determine who was more broken of the pair at this point.

The memory of Envy's brutal death collided with the shade that had been within a few strikes of tearing his armor only moments ago. She didn't care what risk came with the scar on his hand. She didn't care that he had broken his vow to end his lyrium consumption. She didn't care that she had provoked Corypheus and potentially sparked his fury that might have created this. She didn't care. All she found herself fighting against was the emptiness that was left in the wake of the hypothetical loss. The same emptiness that had halted her progress with defeating Envy. She couldn't establish whatever had connected him to her, nor could she explain why she put so much trust in the man.

"Envy used your death against me, Cullen." She forced through her tears, unable to keep the memory to herself. Deep blue eyes pierced into Cullen begging for him to come back to her. "I cannot bear to see it or," her voice wavered as light touched brown eyes lifted to meet hers. "Live through it again." She trailed off at the crippling and jarring truth behind her words. Tears flowed without regard from her eyes as she looked to him with the same level of desperation he returned.

A charged intensity seemed to course within their stare as they both sought to find a purpose within each other. The comfort that had been missing flared back into life as the edges of Cullen's eyes smoothed away the creases that had marked his misery. She could feel the pull of confused feelings that seemed to linger within the exchange. It brought her back to the day when he'd pushed her to fight. It reminded her of the reasons she continued to do so.

The stare was ended by Cullen pulling her tightly into his arms. Her body fell into into his and her head came to rest in the crook of his neck. His faint scent and warm smooth skin invaded her senses as she pressed slightly into his firm hold. A warmth branched throughout her body, while she tried to find words. Yet she didn't want to end this small act of comfort, which seemed to ease both of them.

"I-I need you," Evelyn admitted in a voice she hardly recognized as her own. She didn't care how weak or selfish it sounded. All she cared about was making him fight.

Cullen's head tilted to rest against hers as he tightened his hold on her. She could feel the steady thump of his pulse against her cheek and blinked against another rush of tears. The searing image of Envy's display forced back into her mind. If she had taken his offer the image would've become a reality, which terrified her even more. For whatever reason she had come to rely on the man and within his hold she allowed it to exist without doubt or hesitation.

"Promise me," Cullen began in a stressed tone, forcing Evelyn to shift away from his embrace to see his face. She could make out the collection of worry, defeat, and fear that captured his expression. "If this," He trailed off, turning his gaze to the ground and sighing. "You will end me before I can." His words caught again as he returned his gaze to hers. The unspoken note of death falling short.

"You have my word." She agreed weakly. Evelyn felt the prick of more tears burning at the edge of her raw eyes as she nodded her head in acknowledgement.

"And mine to see you through this." Cullen vowed, an edge of conviction highlighted his words. The faintest traces of his strength tried to resurface as he rested his mouth against her forehead. She could feel the slight shift in pressure as he faintly kissed it, while they both clung to the only comfort that eased their separate desperation.

_Does the hobbitses like it?! Does they, precious? *flails about* Reviews so juicy sweeeet!_

_...well I think I'm funny. Anyways, I'd love to know what you guys think. So as always reviews are appreciated!_

_'Til Chapter 5! :)_


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